


The Whispers Tell Me I'm Not Alright

by BannedBookReader



Series: Right? Right. [2]
Category: Nightwing (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Court of Owls, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, this is freaken dark man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:40:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22644250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BannedBookReader/pseuds/BannedBookReader
Summary: (Sequel to "Right?") 6 months after Cheyenne got on the airplane and 3 mouths after Wally's deaths things are bad and the Court of Owls isn't making it any easier.
Series: Right? Right. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626964
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	The Whispers Tell Me I'm Not Alright

You can't escape the Court of Owls. You can't escape the Court of Owls. You can't escape the Court of Owls. You can't escape the Court of Owls-

"Shut up!" Dick's voice cracked as he shouted out again. It didn't do any good and the chanting droned on, coming from seemingly everywhere. Monotone voices piled on top of one another; just slightly out of sync, building on the extreme irritation (and maybe even fear) that Dick was feeling. He searched frantically for the source of the chanting, to no avail. His breathing became shallow and every part of him shook. His small apartment had been completely obliterated in his search but he refused to believe the sounds were coming from his head. They couldn't be…

The voices switched from a chant to a taunt, as they had been for the last hour. Constantly alternating but never silencing. It was maddening and with each passing the second the urge to release some of the building pressure grew.

Give it up, hero. You cannot hope to rid yourself of us. You cannot hope to escape us. You can only join us. Become a part of us. We will cleanse this world. Together. 

"I'd rather die first!" Another shelf of books tumbled to the floor with an oddly satisfying crash. He snatched one of the novels and flipped through, hysterically looking for some sort of electronic speaker. When he found nothing, frustration took over and he hurled it across the room. It collided with his diploma, hanging on the wall, and both smashed to the ground. There had to be a source for the sound, there had to be…

Why fight us? None of your "friends" will care. No one will notice if you disappear. They never notice when you're in trouble, do they? You have plenty of scars to prove it.

"You're wrong!" He sobbed. A shadow crossed over the wall that once held the, now shattered, flat screen TV. "Bruce…? Is that you?" His voice came out a whisper. He didn't have the energy to shout anymore, and he barely had the energy to stand.

"Bruce?" Ha! Why would it be? He doesn't care. He doesn't care about anyone. He never has. He only cares for his mission. Everything and everyone else is just collateral. Jason is proof enough of that. He tossed you aside when you got shot. Wouldn't work with you anymore. Because you were damaged goods. Useless to him. With us you'll always have a use. 

"Shut up! Please." His legs collapsed beneath him, the room was spinning now.

Join us. You don't belong with these people. You belong with us.

"I don't. I don't. I don't. I don't." His hands pulled through his matted hair. He struggled back to his feet and stumbled into his tiny bathroom. He turned the sink as cold as possible and pushed his head under expecting some form of relief. With a sharp shriek of pain he recoiled from the scorching water and dropped to his knees. That was impossible. He was sure he'd turned on the cold, but the steam rolling out of the sink reinforced that he hadn't.

Haven't you noticed? Everyone you love leaves you?

"No…they don't…"

Your parents.

"No."

Your aunt and uncle.

"You're wrong."

Your cousin. Jason. Cheyenne.

"Stop it! Stop it! Please all of you just stop."

Even Wally. 

"Shut. Up!...please…please just stop…"

We will never leave you. You belong with us. We won't abandon you. We won't look at you like that. Won't look at you like you're some broken thing. We'll let you have all your dark fantasies. And we won't judge you for them. We won't make you hide your darkness. Won't make you live as if you are happy when you aren't. Won't get upset when you show yourself as anything other than what you are. A Talon.   
He pulled himself back up to the sink. His body became rigid at the sight of his reflection. It wasn't his swollen blue eyes, and distraught face staring back. Rather a set of twisted yellow eyes and cruel grinning face. Trails of blood ran in streaks down his unnaturally pale face.

"What's the matter?" He hissed. "It's not so bad. What are you scared of? They make everything better. All the pain? It goes away. And the best part? Everyone that's hurt you? You get rid of them. Slowly. Painfully. It's so. Much. Fun. Hearing them scream while you dig your blade deep into their flesh. You know a thing or two about digging a blade into someone, don't you? It's just like that, only better. We could start with Catalina. Of course we'd get even first. "

Dick felt his stomach drop and fled the bathroom before tripping over an abandoned dresser drawer, one of the first things displaced in his search. He hit the floor with a thud. He didn't bother getting up again, and fought back a full-fledged sob.

Join us. You are and always have been, an owl. We won't pretend to love you, won't leave you when you need us most. Won't die hating you. It's easy really…and virtually painless. At least in comparison.

"Never." He could only just hear himself. His eyes fell on the closet, but it wasn't the doors hanging off their hinges, he was seeing. All he could see was the safe buried under a pile of forgotten clothes. His hand twitched and his last word echoed in his head.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a pounding. It took him a second to figure out that it was coming from the apartment door.

"Dick! Dick, open the door!"

"Roy?" Dick whimpered.

No. Why would he be here? Why would he want to help you? He left you. For drugs. For an assassin. He doesn't want you. None of them do. They were never really your friends. They just felt sorry for the poor little orphan boy. Felt sorry for the boy so cut off from emotion that even his laugh was used as a weapon. They all leave you and they always will. The voices echoed out cruelly.

"Shut up!" Dick let out a yell as another shadow passed in front of him.

"Dick. Baby?" Cheyenne's voice this time. "Baby, please…"

"Baby, please." The owls taunted in a voice that made Dick nauseous. She left you. She got on a plane and left. Forgot about you. Probably slept with every willing person too. She'll just feel bad if you kill yourself, but doesn't actually give a damn about whether or not you're okay.

"Leave me alone."

"We aren't going to leave, Dick. We're worried! Kal said you've been acting oddly and you haven't answered your phone in two days!" Roy hit the door again.

We will never leave. You can never escape us. You can never escape the Court of Owls. We are the very definition of inescapable.

Dick laid there, frozen, as the voices chanted their mantra and his friends banged on the door. He couldn't escape, not from them, he knew that.

"God damn it, Dick! Open the door!" Roy's fists pounded even harder against the door. The sounds of chanting and pounding and begging started to build up, adding to the overwhelming pressure that had already built.

You can't escape the Court of Owls. You can't escape the Court of Owls. You can't escape the Court of Owls…

"I can't escape…" Dick muttered. His eyes held the safe. His index finger twitched as his imagination ran wild. "I can't escape…"

"Dick!" Cheyenne's voice came out as a screech. "Open the door! Talk to us! Talk to me! Please! I'm begging! Baby don't do this!"

You belong with us.

"I…no…no I don't." Dick pushed himself to his knees. "Not with you."

You know you can't escape. You know they don't really care. They left you. Don't you understand? Both of them. They are only here because they feel guilty. As soon as you're "better" they'll leave again. They always do. And then when it all hits you again in the middle of the night, or on a mission, you'll be alone. And you can't say anything to them about it because you're "okay now", you're "better". And they'll just get upset. Even your self-sacrificing, dead best friend told you to grow up.

"Dick! Come on!" Roy pleaded at the door.

"Please baby, don't do this…"

You can't escape us. You know you can't.

"I know…"

Then why fight us?

"Because…"

You are a Talon. We will never leave you. We can make all the pain go away…

"No one can make the pain go away..." He stumbled towards the closet. "I just want…"

"Richard Johnathan Grayson! Open this damn door, or I'll blast it down!" Cheyenne was pounding wildly on the door. Hot tears ran down her face. She turned back towards Roy. "I'm blasting down the door."

"No. Not yet."

Both redheads stared at the door helplessly.

"Dick? Sweetie…I…I'm sorry…but I do…I do love you…and I need you to be okay…please. Just open the door."

She's lying. You know that. No one loves you. People who love you don't leave you. Don't leave you standing in an airport like you just broke the most important thing in the universe. Don't stand aside while you dig a knife into your arm. But we won't do that. We will give you purpose. Join us. Make them pay.

"I'd rather die…" Dick opened the safe.

Cheyenne let out a yell and Roy began throwing himself at the door again after a single gunshot rang out.


End file.
